By felon
The cell rings, I can’t hear much of the conversation as the radio is blasting country music. We are speeding down I-79 getting deeper into West Virginia. The skinhead prisoner seated next to me starts to struggle in his restraints. From up front: “Do the fags need to take a piss?”
He yells f–k yes. I can only grunt.
We stop about 30 miles down the road at an old fashioned gas station with the outside doors to the restrooms.
The driver says, “I know the guy that owns this place — one at a time gentlemen.” He gets the skin out of the van, and finds he can’t get the restroom door open. So he rips open the jumpsuit and pulls out the guy’s monster dick and says, “Just piss against the wall.” He leads him back to the truck and re-chains his feet to the floor.
Continue reading Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 05